


Hydros

by Hannaadi88



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Beach Sex, Canon Compliant, Florence Nightingale Effect, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive!Achilles, The noncon is from the OC don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 17:05:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannaadi88/pseuds/Hannaadi88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Achilles?" Patroclus called out groggily, covering his head with the blanket and turning on his side. </p><p>Achilles didn't answer, but Patroclus heard him walk into the tent and draw closer. He gave a small sigh as Achilles climbed into bed and draped his body over his, peppering his neck with short kisses.</p><p>"No, Achilles. Not tonight. I'm tired…"</p><p>"I'll make it good for you, I promise."</p><p>Patroclus's eyes flashed open in alarm. That wasn't Achilles's voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hydros

"Patroclus!"

Raising his head from the sword wound he was tending, Patroclus watched attentively as a man was carried into the tent. Machaon called out to him again, gesturing to their newest patient. Patroclus gathered his tools in his hands and gave the wounded soldier next to him a reassuring smile.

"You may return to your camp," he said quickly. "Make sure to rest. No battles for you for the next few weeks."

The soldier tried to smile back, but the moment he put his weight on his injured leg, pain flickered on his face. It was gone as soon as it appeared and the man managed a small bow.

"I am indebted to you. You have my gratitude, Patroclus."

Patroclus nodded and carefully watched the soldier as he limped out of the tent. He should have reminded him not to put his weight on his bad leg, but Patroclus's mind was already on the newest addition to the medical tent.

He rushed over to the bed that now bore the weight of the young soldier. One of Diomedes's men, by the insignia on his breastplate. It was quickly removed along with the rest of the man's armor. His face was red with exertion and his breath came in quick, shallow pants.

Patroclus set his tools on a low stool beside him and took the wet compress from Machaon's hands, pressing it to the soldier's brow.

"What ails him?"

Machaon cut through the soldier's shirt, tearing the fabric apart as he inspected the man's arms and chest. "See here?" Machaon turned the soldier's arm and showed it to Patroclus. Twin bite marks marred the otherwise unblemished skin. The area around it was discolored.

"A snake bite?" Patroclus guessed. He pushed back the memory of his nearly fatal encounter with a hydros, choosing to focus on the matter at hand. It wasn't the time to wonder at the swift hand of Achilles that broke the serpent's neck.

Machaon nodded. "Most likely. I have some leeches in the back. Keep this man conscious until I return."

Patroclus grunted his assent as he continued to press the compress to the soldier's face. "You're going to be okay," he murmured, moving the cloth down to the man's cheek. "Just relax. What's your name?"

The soldier blinked. Patroclus repeated his question a number of times until he received a response.

"Kyros. What… what's happening?"

"You've been bitten by a snake, Kyros," Patroclus said slowly, waiting for comprehension to reflect in Kyros's eyes. "I need you to try to stay awake. Can you do it for me?"

Kyros's mouth slackened but after a long moment, he nodded. Patroclus took a deep breath. He walked over to the wooden table in the middle of the tent and returned with a cup.

"Drink some water. It'll help."

It took a few tries, but finally they managed to slip the liquid past Kyros's lips. He coughed as some of the water went down the wrong pipe, but otherwise appeared unscathed.  Machaon appeared back at Patroclus's side before he could attempt anything else.

"Observe," he instructed as he took Kyros's arm and stretched it out on the bed, binding it to the wood with strands of cloth. He then presented Patroclus with a jar full of water.

"Go on. Take one out and place it on a puncture mark. It will suck the venom out."

Reigning in his disgust, Patroclus opened the jar and reached in, shuddering as his fingers circled a fleshy mass. He quickly extracted it and placed the leech on Kyros's arm, watching as the parasite latched itself to the open wound. Kyros whimpered.

"Don't move," Machaon instructed Kyros, pressing his fingers to the veins of Kyros's arm, just above the puncture marks. He massaged the thin lines in a downwards motion. Patroclus assumed that the physician meant to encourage the poison to flow back to the wound, but the crease between Kyros's brows only deepened as he grimaced in pain. Sweat beaded down the column of his neck.

Patroclus coughed, catching Machaon's attention.

"I believe Elpis is calling," he pointed to the far end of the tent. Odysseus's soldier looked at them hopefully. "It's your turn."

Machaon took a deep breath and sighed. He released the pressure from Kyros's arm and wiped his hands on the front of his tunic. "Indeed it is. Make sure this man keeps down his fluids. We wouldn't want him to perish from dehydration after coming to us for a snake bite."

Patroclus nodded and watched as the older man approached Elpis. The soldier suffered from a broken arm and though his presence was unusually irritating, he insisted on remaining in the medical tent when all he required was rest he could easily obtain in his own camp. There was a lull in the line of wounded soldiers so there was no reason to make him leave, but the moment another man needed his bed, Machaon wouldn't hesitate to push Elpis through the tent flaps.

"Am I going to die?"

Patroclus blinked down at Kyros. The soldier's lips were chapped and his face was grey. He looked down at the bound arm- the leech was making a gory scene. Patroclus shook his head vehemently.

"Of course not," he swore, picking the leech off and dropping it back in the jar.

"I didn't think it would end like this," Kyros said absently, looking beyond Patroclus at nothing in particular. "My mother will refuse to speak with me in the underworld. I was supposed to die by the sword…"

Patroclus grabbed a bowl of honey and coated his fingers with the sticky substance. "That's quite enough," he chided Kyros as he gently rubbed the honey against the bite marks. Kyros stiffened.

"You aren't going to die today, Kyros. Not on my watch. You'll live to see another battle," Patroclus swore. He undid the cloth around the soldier's arm. "The honey should clean your wound. I'll be back with more water for you."

When he returned to Kyros's side with a refilled cup, the soldier looked up at him with a ghost of a smile.

"You swear I shall live?"

"If you drink this, I swear it," Patroclus confirmed, pressing the rim of the cup to Kyros's lips.

Kyros took a long sip. Pulling the cup back just enough to allow the soldier to breathe, Patroclus kept at it until it was empty. He set it down next to the leech jar and sat down on the stool next to the bed.

"How do you feel?"

"Confident. With your help, I might just- oh, gods," Kyros lurched onto his side and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Patroclus rubbed the soldier's back soothingly with a sad smile.

So much for keeping his fluids down.

 

.x.

 

"You smell of sick," Briseis said plainly as Patroclus sat down. She had her own tent she shared with the other girls Achilles claimed for Patroclus's sake, but Briseis always made a point of waiting for Patroclus in the boys' tent. She'd bring him something sweet to eat after a day in the medical tent and would listen to stories of his patients with an attentiveness Achilles didn't possess.

Patroclus grimaced as he sat down opposite her and reached out for the figs she'd piled on a plate between them. He didn't mind the disapproving frown she gave him as he bit into the fleshy fruit with dirty hands.

"I know," he said in-between bites. "A soldier emptied the entire contents of his stomach next to me and I was the one on cleaning duty today."

Briseis clucked her tongue. "You reek of it."

Patroclus shrugged. "I guess I'll go for a swim tonight."

"What's this about swimming?"

Achilles pushed by the flap of the tent and stepped inside. He set down his shield in its usual place and immediately walked over to Patroclus, falling to his knees with a metallic clang and cupping his cheek. Patroclus smiled warmly as his face was tilted up and their mouths met in a short kiss.

Briseis cleared her throat.

Achilles broke the kiss with a throaty chuckle. "Ah, Briseis. Shall I embrace you, too?"

Briseis choked on the fig she'd just taken a bite from. Her cheeks were flushed.

"I'll be taking my leave now. The girls need help with supper."

She gave Patroclus a reproachful look. Before he could say a thing, she'd stood up and exited the tent.

Patroclus sighed. He knew he deserved that look.

"Why must you tease her so?"

Achilles shrugged and pulled his helmet off. He set it down and plopped his head down on Patroclus's lap. He absently fingered the cloth of Patroclus's tunic.

"You know she's jealous. I won't have her pining for you in my presence."

Patroclus ran his fingers through Achilles's blond locks, smoothing them out. He ignored the sticky drops of blood. "Still, that doesn't mean you have to—"

"You stink," Achilles cut him off, wrinkling his nose as he pulled at Patroclus's tunic and sniffed the fabric.

"So do you," Patroclus shot back. "You've got grime and gore all over you."

"Sure, but that's to be expected. I go around killing people. I didn't know you could get so dirty from saving lives."

Patroclus snorted and pushed Achilles off his lap. "Apparently. I was planning on going for a swim before dinner."

"I shall join you," Achilles proclaimed, climbing to his feet. He stretched his arms in the air and on cue, Patroclus stood up and approached him, unclasping the buckles at Achilles's sides, who then pulled the armor over his head. Patroclus's hands lingered on Achilles's hips.

"You haven't been hurt today, have you?"

Achilles flashed him his heart-melting grin and wrapped his arm around Patroclus's neck, pulling him close into a searing kiss.

"Hector still lives," he murmured when their lips parted. Patroclus nodded- that was enough for him.

"Come, let us go." Achilles grabbed Patroclus's wrist and led him out of the tent and through the camp. Soldiers raised their hands in greeting and Achilles nodded at them in recognition, but no one made him stop and linger. A few even called out Patroclus's name, but all he could do was smile apologetically as he was dragged to the coastline.

Achilles finally let go when sand crunched beneath their sandals. Patroclus looked over his shoulder at the outline of the camp.

"You can't lead me like that in front of the soldiers, Achilles," Patroclus insisted, rubbing the skin of his wrist, which felt a little raw. "There will be talk."

"Let there be talk," Achilles dismissed Patroclus's concern. He pulled off his tunic and let it fall to the ground next to him. "I don't care. What difference does it make to them who warms my bed, when I'm the one who wins their battles every day?"

Patroclus felt his cheeks grow warm as his eyes ran over Achilles's bare flesh. It didn't matter that he'd seen the other man naked countless times in the past. The fact that Achilles stood so in front of him, only for his eyes to see, was as heady as mulled wine.

His skin was covered in sweat and dirt, but his skin was unconceivably smooth. Even after all these years, none had come close enough to land a blow, let alone leave a scratch.

"You're beautiful," Patroclus murmured, grabbing his own tunic and pulling it over his head. It fell next to Achilles's in a small heap.

Achilles grinned and offered him his hand. Patroclus took it.

They ran into the water together, crying in delight as the cold water washed over their bodies. Patroclus considered Achilles's mother and what she might think of their swim, but a kiss to his shoulder put a stop to that train of thought.

They splashed at each other just like they used to when they were younger, playing in the water. While being chased by Achilles, Patroclus tripped on a stone and fell face-first into the water. He was quickly scooped up by strong hands, who lifted him up into the air by his waist.

Patroclus wrapped his arms around Achilles's neck and squeezed his thighs around the other's hips, pressing their bodies flush together. Achilles shifted his hold and supported him from the bottom, squeezing a cheek in each of his palms. His mouth pressed against the column of Patroclus's neck, peppering the wet skin with warm kisses.

Patroclus's eyes fluttered shut as he tilted his head to the side to grant Achilles easier access to his neck. He groaned, rutting his hips against Achilles's firm stomach.

It was all very wet, but the combination of the wind cooling his skin while Achilles's damp, warm body pressed against him was everything Patroclus wanted. He could tell Achilles wanted it too- his cock was a throbbing heat against his thigh.

By the time they returned to their tent, Patroclus was certain that he was a walking pillar of sand. He could feel the tiny grains all over him- in his hair, on his skin and even _inside._ Achilles was in no better state.

They couldn't care less as they pulled off their wet tunics and hung them to dry, tumbling into bed in a heap of limbs.

Nothing ever stopped Achilles from getting what he wanted, Patroclus mused as he tucked his head against the other man's chest. Not even irritating little grains of sand that would definitely chafe in the morning.

 

.x.

 

Patroclus hummed as he carried a jug of water to the medical tent. There were fewer soldiers inside today, which surely was a cause for celebration. Even Elpis had agreed to finally leave and return to his own camp.

Machaon had suggested Patroclus return to his own tent as well for the day, but he'd insisted to stay and help, even with menial tasks as fetching water. It wasn't like he had anything better to do with himself, and who knew if he'd be needed later on…

"Patroclus!"

Patroclus stopped and turned in the direction of the voice. A smile stretched across his face as he saw Kyros run in his direction.

"It's good to see you on your feet," Patroclus said as the soldier caught up with him. "How are you feeling?"

Kyros beamed. "I am well, all thanks to you. I would have died without your help." He reached out and grasped Patroclus's shoulder, giving it a squeeze that lingered far too long for his liking.

Patroclus grew a little flustered, shifting the jug against his hip. He was used to patients approaching him and thanking him for his medical attention, but they never touched him like that.

"You're very welcome," he maneuvered his shoulder out of Kyros's hold and resumed his walk. Kyros followed.

"Let me carry that for you," Kyros offered, reaching out to take the just from Patroclus's hands. "It looks heavy."

Patroclus shook his head. "No, it's fine. I can manage it."

They continued to walk in silence when it happened- a tree branch, god knows from where, crossed their path and Patroclus, oblivious as always, tripped over it. The jar went flying in the air, of course, and landed in a loud crash on the ground. Patroclus would have followed if not for the pair of arms holding him by the waist.

It took Patroclus a few moments for the shock to pass before realizing that his back was plastered to Kyros's chest. The soldier was holding him tightly and had yet to let go.

"I-I'm okay now," Patroclus stumbled, trying to pry himself away. "Thank you for catching me."

Kyros didn't let go. "You should have let me take the jar," he murmured into Patroclus's ear. "I told you it was too heavy for you."

Patroclus was about to reply when he felt something warm and wet on the shell of his ear. Making an indignant sound, he yanked himself out of Kyros's arms and raised his hand to his ear, covering it with his palm. His face burned as he faced the soldier.

"I'm glad you made a full recovery," he said quickly, looking around to see if anyone had witnessed the scene. If Achilles caught wind of Kyros's proximity, it wouldn't end well for the soldier. "But I'm afraid I cannot return your affections."

Kyros crossed his arms. "Nonsense. You were all over me in the medical tent."

Patroclus's head spun. He didn't know what the man was speaking of.

"I have no recollection of such a thing. I treat all of my patients equally."

"There's no need for you to lie," Kyros said softly. He reached out and grabbed Patroclus by the arm. "I know how that brute keeps you on a leash. I'm ready to fight for you. I'll free you, Patroclus."

With great difficulty, Patroclus managed to release his arm from Kyros's hold and started to run. Much to his relief, he didn't hear the soldier pursuing him.

He caught his breath as he entered his tent, crumbling to the ground in a bought of nerves.

What on earth had just happened?

 

.x.

 

Several days passed since Patroclus's encounter with Kyros, and the sky had yet to fall down on his head. He'd returned to the medical tent the next day with an excuse on his tongue for disappearing the previous afternoon, but Machaon only encouraged him to rest more.

"You look pale," he said plainly.

Patroclus was jittery. He half expected Kyros to turn up and demand he run off with him at every turn. He certainly was shocked when Achilles returned night after night to their tent with his usual grin and good humor. He hadn't heard about Kyros, then.

As the week progressed, Patroclus felt the tension ease out of his limbs. Maybe he'd gotten his point across to Kyros when he ran away. The man was nowhere to be seen. In fact, he started to feel a little bad for the soldier. It must have been hard to be rejected to blatantly.

Patroclus resolved that the next time he saw the man, he'd apologize. He hadn't really done anything wrong, after all.

After a hard day's work, Patroclus was tucked cozily beneath the covers of his bed in the tent, drowsily waiting for Achilles to return from the battlefield. Briseis had kept him company for a while, but eventually went out to pick herbs with the other girls.

The blankets were so soft and Patroclus was so tired, it was hard to keep his eyes open. They remained shut even as he heard a rustling from the tent's entrance.

"Achilles?" he called out groggily, covering his head with the blanket and turning on his side.

Achilles didn't answer, but Patroclus heard him walk into the tent and draw closer. He gave a small sigh as Achilles climbed into bed and draped his body over his, peppering his neck with short kisses.

"No, Achilles. Not tonight. I'm tired…"

"I'll make it good for you, I promise."

Patroclus's eyes flashed open in alarm. That wasn't Achilles's voice. His eyes widened and he panicked as he saw Kyros's face leering down at him. He opened his mouth to scream, but Kyros muffled it with his hand.

"Hush, I'm not here to harm you."

Patroclus thrashed his limbs, shifting from side to side. Kyros growled and reached to the side of the bed, grabbing a piece of cloth Achilles used to shine his armor with, and stuffed it in Patroclus's mouth. He then proceeded to pin Patroclus's arms above his head and sat heavily on his legs.

"Relax. I want to show you what kind of man you're worthy of."

With that, Kyros resumed his kissing, mouthing at the supple skin of Patroclus's neck. He didn't stop even as Patroclus tried to pull away- he just bit harder, sucking at the flesh until it turned a deep shade of red.

Patroclus whimpered. How could this be happening? Why wasn't he strong enough to push Kyros off? Where was Achilles?

Tears ran down his cheeks as Kyros shifted his hold on his wrists so that only one hand held them down. The other delved beneath his tunic, sliding over his thigh before squeezing his cock.

"I'll make you feel so good," Kyros crooned, pumping his hand. "You'll forget all about—"

"Get your filthy hands off of him!"

Patroclus's breath caught in his throat. He watched as Achilles walked across the room, the splatter of blood on his cheek glistening in the candlelight. Kyros scrambled to his feet but was too late- Achilles was already on him, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him to the ground. There was a grotesque crunch and Patroclus winced- Kyros must have broken something.

Patroclus quickly sat up and pulled the dirty cloth out of his mouth. Achilles was straddling Kyros, a murderous glint in his eye.

"Stop!" Patroclus cried, tumbling out of bed and throwing himself across Achilles's back. "Don't kill him!"

Achilles wrapped his fingers around Kyros's neck and squeezed. Kyros's eyes bulged, hands scratching at Achilles, but nothing would deter him.

"Achilles!" Patroclus yelled. "Stop it, stop it right now!"

He climbed off of Achilles and grabbed his wrists, trying to pull them away from Kyros. They didn't budge.

"Please, don't do this," he begged, voice raw.

"Why are you defending him?" Achilles seethed, digging his nails into skin. Blood trickled down Kyros's throat. "He tried to force you against your will!"

"I know," Patroclus said, falling to his knees and resting his forehead against Achilles's shoulder. His hands gently wrapped around his arm. "But that isn't a reason to kill him."

"I've killed men for less," Achilles snapped. "He wanted to take you from me. He touched what is mine."

Patroclus swallowed thickly. "Please, Achilles," he said softly. "Let him go. For me. I don't want his death on my hands."

Achilles stilled. Kyros's face was a nasty purple color. With a reluctant sigh, Achilles unwound his fingers from the man's throat and backed away. Kyros sat up and coughed. He lingered as long as it took for him to catch his breath, after which he shot Achilles a terrified stare and jumped to his feet, running out of the tent as fast as they could carry him.

A heavy silence hung between them as they looked at the tent flap. Achilles was the one to break it.

"Did he harm you?" he asked gruffly, pushing himself off of the floor. Patroclus followed, straightening out his tunic. It was still hiked up his thigh. He quickly pulled it down.

"No. You came before he could," he shook his head, eyed glued to the floor.

Achilles reached out and grasped his chin in his palm, tilting it up and forcing him to meet his gaze.

"Look at me, Patroclus."

For some reason, tears started to form in Patroclus's eyes. He blinked them back. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry for being so weak."

Something flashed across Achilles's face and before he knew it, Patroclus was enveloped in a tight embrace. Achilles's armor was cold and hard against his cheek.

"No, I'm the one who should be apologizing," Achilles said firmly. "I wasn't here when you needed me the most. I failed you."

Patroclus shook his head and wrapped his arms around Achilles's waist. "You didn't fail me!" His voice was muffled against the armor. "You saved me, Achilles. Just like you always do."

Achilles bent down and lifted Patroclus in his arms, carrying him across the room and depositing him in their bed. Patroclus had just enough time to scoot up to the pillows before Achilles trapped him between his arms.

"Why did you make me let him go?" Achilles asked in a low voice. Patroclus shivered- he knew how dangerous that voice was.

"I saved his life, Achilles," Patroclus protested. "I couldn't let you kill him just for desiring me."

"Is that so?" Achilles snapped. Patroclus could barely make out his expression through the helmet he still wore. "Did you desire him as well?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why did you allow him to touch you?" Achilles's voice broke. His fingers brushed over the hickey on Patroclus's collarbone. "How could you let him leave this?"

Shame flamed Patroclus's cheeks. "I didn't let him do anything! He forced me, Achilles. Not all of us are as strong as you."

Achilles's calloused hands delved between their bodies and hiked up Patroclus's tunic, grabbing his naked hips.

"Did he have you? By gods, Patroclus, if he had you, I swear he shall not live to see the light of day!"

"He did not," Patroclus exclaimed. He reached out and carefully, carefully, pulled the gleaming helmet off Achilles's head and set it down next to him. He gently cupped his cheeks in his palms.

"I'm yours, Achilles. Always was, always will be."

Patroclus could have sworn Achilles's eyes watered. Before he could confirm it, Achilles leaned down and pressed his mouth against his. Hard.

Patroclus broke the kiss with a loud moan. Achilles's hand was wrapped around his cock and was moving up and down in swift strokes, picking up from where Kyros left off.

"Scream for me, Patroclus. Let me hear your voice."

Wrapping his arms around Achilles's neck, Patroclus threw his head back and cried out as white spots clouded his vision.

"Achilles, Achilles… oh, _gods, Achilles_!"

Just before he toppled over the edge of ecstasy, Achilles pulled away. Patroclus huffed in protest as tightened his hold.

Achilles chuckled breathlessly.

"Let go. I promise it'll be worth your time."

Patroclus unwound his arms from around Achilles's neck reluctantly. He perked up, however, when Achilles leaned over to grab the vial of oil they always kept nearby.

"Spread your legs, Patroclus."

Swallowing thickly, Patroclus lay back and lifted his legs ever so slightly, spreading them. Achilles looked at him hungrily.

Wasting no time, Achilles opened the vial and doused his fingers with oil. He sat himself between Patroclus's legs and hooked one of them over his shoulder, pressing a sweet kiss to the inside of Patroclus's thigh.

Patroclus gasped when he felt a finger press into him. No matter how many times they did this, the first finger always felt rather peculiar. Achilles pumped it a few times before adding a second, and soon enough, a third finger. They'd just done it the night before- his muscles didn't give much resistance.

"Wait," Patroclus said after Achilles pulled out. He smiled shyly. Patroclus pressed a hand against the cold metal over Achilles's chest and pushed. "Let me."

Raising a brow, Achilles complied, lying back on the blanket. Patroclus grabbed the oil vial and poured some in his hand, crawling over to Achilles. He pushed up the skirt of Achilles's tunic and took his cock in his palm.

Achilles's eyes fluttered closed as Patroclus continued, slicking his length. Patroclus leaned down just enough to press a quick kiss to the head before climbing on top of Achilles's thighs and positioning himself.

"Are you certain?" Achilles said thickly, propping himself up on his forearms. Patroclus nodded. That was enough for Achilles, who surged forward and met Patroclus for a deep kiss.

While sliding tongues with Achilles, Patroclus rose to his knees. He held Achilles's cock by its base and spread his legs, slowly lowering himself onto the hard shaft. They both gasped at the first breach.

They were both breathing heavily by the time Patroclus was fully seated. Achilles had his hands on Patroclus's hips, but Patroclus swatted them away.

"I don't need your help," he said adamantly. Ever so carefully, he balanced himself on Achilles's legs and rose, almost reaching the tip of the other's cock before sitting back down and taking it to the base.

" _Gods_ ," Achilles gasped. He sat up and grabbed Patroclus's hips once again. He littered his collarbone with little bites and kisses. "You're so good for me, Patroclus."

Patroclus shivered. He allowed Achilles to help him maneuver up and down, both of them breathing heavily with every move. They developed a rhythm, Patroclus bobbing up and down with the aid of Achilles's strong hands beneath his thighs. He vaguely heard Achilles hiss before finding himself on his back against the cold covers. Achilles hooked his legs over his shoulders as he pound into him, the pace significantly quicker than before.

"You're mine," Achilles groaned, bucking his hips. The armor looked heavy. "I won't let anyone else touch you ever again."

Another strong thrust and a pair of lips on his own tipped Patroclus over the edge. He cried out and dug his fingers into the pillow above his head as he came.

"Achilles!"

Achilles soon followed, releasing inside of him with a loud moan. He pulled out shakily and fell onto the bed next to Patroclus, careful not to crush him with his armor. They both tried to catch their breath.

"Do you forgive me, my darling?" Achilles finally said, turning on his side to face Patroclus. He reached out and took Patroclus's hand in his own, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

Patroclus shook his head with a grin. "You're such a sweet -talker.  Only if you forgive me."

"But there's nothing to forgive."

"I could say that too."

That went on for a while.

 

.x.

 

Life went on, as the saying goes. Achilles continued to go out to battle every morning and returned unscathed at night. Patroclus worked in the medical tent with Machaon and walked around with Briseis. Everything was as it should be… but Patroclus couldn't help but worry about Kyros.

"It's too bad about him, really," Machaon said a week after the incident. He entered the medical tent and set his tools down on the table.

"Too bad about who?"

"Remember the soldier who came to us with a snake bite? Kyros?"

Patroclus's blood went cold.

"What about him?"

"I was tending his friend in Diomedes's camp. They said that he was killed last night."

Patroclus's head spun. He sat down.

"Kyros is dead?"

"So they said. It was a joint attack with Achilles's men. We won, of course, but Kyros was one of the casualties."

Patroclus's hand trembled as he poured himself a cup of water. Achilles had been particularly cheerful last night… no, he was just imagining things. It was probably just a coincidence. There was no reason to think that Achilles had a hand in what happened to Kyros.

…was there?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for Patrochilles. I've been dying to write something for this pairing ever since I finished reading the book, but life got in the way. This is finally done, though! I think this is probably one of the longest oneshots I've ever written, haha.
> 
> I hope you all like it ;w; I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
> 
> * Short comments
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